Chapter 44: Participation

After vomiting, Zhou Quan Yi seemed to sober up a little.

“Thank you, Fourth,” Zhou Quan Yi said.

Though he was drunk, he still remembered some of what had happened. Jiang Zheng had come to pick him up, paid for his drinks, and brought him home—Zhou Quan Yi was aware of all this.

“There’s no need for thanks between us. Can you tell me what happened? Why did you go out drinking alone?” Jiang Zheng asked.

“Fourth, I’ve lost love,” Zhou Quan Yi replied.

“You’ve lost love?” Jiang Zheng was taken aback. When did he fall in love? How did he not know about it?

“Today, Tao Luna clearly rejected me.” Zhou Quan Yi’s mood was a little low.

“It’s fine, isn’t it just a confession turned down? There are plenty of fish in the sea, don’t be too sad. When the semester starts, let Second introduce you to someone—he knows lots of girls.” Jiang Zheng tried to comfort him.

“No, I didn’t confess,” Zhou Quan Yi said.

“You didn’t confess? How did you get rejected if you didn’t confess?” Jiang Zheng asked.

“I brought her breakfast this morning, and she told me not to bring it again. She said she doesn’t like it,” Zhou Quan Yi explained.

Jiang Zheng fell silent; the meaning of rejection was clear.

Thinking of Tao Luna, Jiang Zheng felt it was only natural she’d turn Zhou Quan Yi down—they were never on the same path.

“Big brother, I don’t get it. How long have you known Tao Luna, and how come you like her so much already?” Jiang Zheng asked.

“Because there’s a certain quality about her that attracts me,” Zhou Quan Yi answered.

Jiang Zheng understood; Zhou Quan Yi had mentioned this before.

“That’s not what I meant. Girls have pursued you before, but you’ve never dated. In your eyes, gaming is more fun than romance. So why, after knowing Tao Luna for so little time, does she make you feel this way?” Jiang Zheng questioned.

Zhou Quan Yi was silent for a long time before he finally said, “Maybe… love itself is irrational.”

Jiang Zheng: …

“Forget it, don’t be sad anymore. I believe you’ll find a love that’s truly yours,” Jiang Zheng told him.

Hearing this, Zhou Quan Yi’s expression became complicated. After a long while, he said, “Perhaps I’ll never find love again in this lifetime.”

“Don’t be so pessimistic. Life is long, you’ve barely begun—how can you know what’s ahead?” Jiang Zheng replied.

Zhou Quan Yi smiled faintly and said nothing more.

After a moment of silence, Zhou Quan Yi suddenly said, “Fourth, let’s leave tomorrow. I’ll take you traveling, all expenses paid.”

Hearing this, Jiang Zheng asked, “What about ‘Boys and Girls Charge Forward’? Aren’t we going to participate?”

“What’s the point in participating? I never wanted to join in the first place, only… now nothing matters anymore,” Zhou Quan Yi said.

“We’ve already registered, and I’d still like to give it a try,” Jiang Zheng said.

Zhou Quan Yi frowned slightly. “That show isn’t worth it. Even if you clear all the challenges, you only win a refrigerator. What’s a refrigerator worth? Let’s call it ten thousand, I’ll give you a hundred thousand. Come travel with me, you won’t have to pay for anything.”

Despite Zhou Quan Yi’s generous offer, Jiang Zheng didn’t feel happy.

He sensed something different about Zhou Quan Yi tonight.

“I still want to participate, not for the prize, but because I’ve already signed up. I don’t want to quit at the last minute,” Jiang Zheng said.

“Fourth, think it over. That’s a hundred thousand—you’d have to work part-time for ages to earn it,” Zhou Quan Yi said.

Jiang Zheng smiled. “Perhaps, but you know I’m not the sort who abandons everything for money.”

Hearing this, Zhou Quan Yi didn’t press further.

After a pause, he said, “Alright, since you want to join, I’ll stay and wait for you to finish. Then you can accompany me on a trip to clear my mind.”

Jiang Zheng thought for a moment and replied, “Alright, that works.”

Traveling was no harm for him; perhaps he might even trigger some system tasks.

As for writing, Jiang Zheng could carve out time for it.

With the system skills boosting him, writing wasn’t so difficult.

“I’ll wait for you for a day, but I definitely won’t participate in the show. You’ll have to go alone,” Zhou Quan Yi said.

“Mm, that’s up to you,” Jiang Zheng responded.

Whether Zhou Quan Yi joined or not didn’t affect him much.

He was staying mainly to complete his task.

Jiang Zheng checked the time and said, “It’s late, big brother. Let’s sleep.”

Zhou Quan Yi agreed; whether he slept or not, Jiang Zheng soon drifted into dreams.

…

The show “Boys and Girls Charge Forward” had been around for years.

Jiang Zheng remembered watching it during his middle school days, always while eating lunch.

Whenever someone fell into the water, he felt regret; when someone cleared the course, he felt joy.

Most contestants were ordinary people with average fitness; those who cleared the course were always few.

For a long time, Jiang Zheng hadn’t watched the show again.

He had no idea what it had become now.

While Zhou Quan Yi slept in the hotel, Jiang Zheng arrived alone at the competition venue, accompanied by Tao Luna.

Both were participating in “Boys and Girls Charge Forward,” but not on the same course.

The boys’ and girls’ courses were different—after all, in general, boys had higher physical ability.

So the boys’ course was harder.

Both courses were tough, and many contestants fell into the water midway. Some couldn’t even pass the first obstacle.

The courses were carefully designed—seemingly simple, yet full of hidden tricks. Many inconspicuous spots were easy to stumble on.

Arriving at the waiting area, Jiang Zheng waited quietly.

He observed those around him; there were many contestants, both young and old.

Everyone was gearing up, ready to show their skills.

For many, it was a chance to appear on TV—they didn’t want to fall embarrassingly into the water.

Clearing the course meant a prize.

After a while, Jiang Zheng started warming up.

The courses for “Boys and Girls Charge Forward” were all set above water. Without warming up first, the strenuous activity could easily cause cramps.

Jiang Zheng was careful.

On TV, the courses looked simple, as if anyone could pass if they tried.

But most contestants ended up in the water. Jiang Zheng knew better than to think the course was easy.

Soon, the contestants ahead began to take the stage.

Jiang Zheng’s turn was later; he’d have to wait.

From the waiting area, he could see the course.

Sure enough, the contestants before him all failed—they fell into the water one after another.